Read Online The True Story of Hansel and Gretel by Louise Murphy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Louise Murphy
Ads: Link
Jews. Jews, and your soldiers dying and dying.”
He would have done a little dance, the words pleased him so much, but he had to concentrate on keeping the sun to his right as it began to fall in the sky. The road was south.
He had walked for most of the day and knew he must be close. Hearing a shout, he fell to the ground and waited. There was another shout, and it was in German, so he knew it was the killers.
“No dogs. Please. No dogs,” he whispered. He crawled slowly toward the road bisecting the trees.
“Let’s go,” the voice shouted in German. “He’s freezing his ass off back there.”
It wasn’t the first time the Mechanik was glad that he had learned German. Knowing German let you know when to speak and when to be silent and when to grovel in the dirt. Those who hadn’t understood German hadn’t jumped quickly enough, and died. He watched as two soldiers rode slowly back down the road on their motorcycles. Beyond them was an officer on another cycle.
Around four bends in the rutted road he caught up with them. The three motorcycles were clustered in the road. The Mechanik did not stop to see if his motorcycle was in the ditch near them. He moved more deeply into the forest and kept going alongside the road.
The children must be hiding nearby. Waiting for him.
He finally dared to draw closer to the road. He knew that he couldn’t go much farther. His legs trembled, and without food he could never walk for another day.
“If I sleep, I die,” he muttered. “If I walk many more hours with no food, I die. If they catch me, I die. If they don’t catch me, I die. If I go back with no motorcycle, I die. If I steal a motorcycle from the Germans, I die.”
He felt hysterical laughter rising up in his empty gut and fought it down. He couldn’t even call to the children. They might be hiding two hundred feet away in the brush, but he couldn’t call to them or the Germans would hear.
First he should make sure that the children were not dead. If a German had found them, he would have dragged them back to the officer. Then the beating to see if the children knew where the adults had gone. Then the shots to the head. The bodies would be on the road.
He walked through the trees and brush and began to move down the edge of the road, away from the Germans. He could move faster on the frozen mud.
The Germans wouldn’t have bothered hiding the murdered children. They would have let the bodies fall with no thought of concealing the killings. Dead children were a good lesson for any Poles who came down the road. Little corpses kept the Poles docile until their turn came.
There were no bodies on the road, but he kept looking until he finally gave up and began walking back toward the Germans. He still stared ahead into every ditch looking for the boy’s small form. The girl was older. They might have kept her for a while.
His face twitched at the thought. Not rape though. Not with an officer present. The soldiers would be shot on the spot if they had sex with a Jew. They probably wouldn’t dare rape the girl with an officer leading the search, but the officer might rape her. He could send the soldiers off on the hunt and rape the girl before he killed her. The Mechanik’s mind moved logically over these facts as he walked.
The voices shouted in German up ahead, and he moved into the trees. His whole body was hot and tense, and he hadn’t scratched his lice since going into the forest the day before. It was amazing. It was as if the lice knew they had better not distract him or their host would die and be useless to them. Or his body didn’t feel the crawling. That was a bad thing. It meant that death was standing next to you, waiting to step into your shoes.
The Mechanik smelled the cigarette before he saw the man. Twenty feet away the German soldier was smoking and holding a submachine gun in his hand. Not a German gun. It was a pepecha, the Russian PPD.
The Mechanik smiled. The killers were using
He would have done a little dance, the words pleased him so much, but he had to concentrate on keeping the sun to his right as it began to fall in the sky. The road was south.
He had walked for most of the day and knew he must be close. Hearing a shout, he fell to the ground and waited. There was another shout, and it was in German, so he knew it was the killers.
“No dogs. Please. No dogs,” he whispered. He crawled slowly toward the road bisecting the trees.
“Let’s go,” the voice shouted in German. “He’s freezing his ass off back there.”
It wasn’t the first time the Mechanik was glad that he had learned German. Knowing German let you know when to speak and when to be silent and when to grovel in the dirt. Those who hadn’t understood German hadn’t jumped quickly enough, and died. He watched as two soldiers rode slowly back down the road on their motorcycles. Beyond them was an officer on another cycle.
Around four bends in the rutted road he caught up with them. The three motorcycles were clustered in the road. The Mechanik did not stop to see if his motorcycle was in the ditch near them. He moved more deeply into the forest and kept going alongside the road.
The children must be hiding nearby. Waiting for him.
He finally dared to draw closer to the road. He knew that he couldn’t go much farther. His legs trembled, and without food he could never walk for another day.
“If I sleep, I die,” he muttered. “If I walk many more hours with no food, I die. If they catch me, I die. If they don’t catch me, I die. If I go back with no motorcycle, I die. If I steal a motorcycle from the Germans, I die.”
He felt hysterical laughter rising up in his empty gut and fought it down. He couldn’t even call to the children. They might be hiding two hundred feet away in the brush, but he couldn’t call to them or the Germans would hear.
First he should make sure that the children were not dead. If a German had found them, he would have dragged them back to the officer. Then the beating to see if the children knew where the adults had gone. Then the shots to the head. The bodies would be on the road.
He walked through the trees and brush and began to move down the edge of the road, away from the Germans. He could move faster on the frozen mud.
The Germans wouldn’t have bothered hiding the murdered children. They would have let the bodies fall with no thought of concealing the killings. Dead children were a good lesson for any Poles who came down the road. Little corpses kept the Poles docile until their turn came.
There were no bodies on the road, but he kept looking until he finally gave up and began walking back toward the Germans. He still stared ahead into every ditch looking for the boy’s small form. The girl was older. They might have kept her for a while.
His face twitched at the thought. Not rape though. Not with an officer present. The soldiers would be shot on the spot if they had sex with a Jew. They probably wouldn’t dare rape the girl with an officer leading the search, but the officer might rape her. He could send the soldiers off on the hunt and rape the girl before he killed her. The Mechanik’s mind moved logically over these facts as he walked.
The voices shouted in German up ahead, and he moved into the trees. His whole body was hot and tense, and he hadn’t scratched his lice since going into the forest the day before. It was amazing. It was as if the lice knew they had better not distract him or their host would die and be useless to them. Or his body didn’t feel the crawling. That was a bad thing. It meant that death was standing next to you, waiting to step into your shoes.
The Mechanik smelled the cigarette before he saw the man. Twenty feet away the German soldier was smoking and holding a submachine gun in his hand. Not a German gun. It was a pepecha, the Russian PPD.
The Mechanik smiled. The killers were using
Similar Books
